


Maribat March 2020: Week 4

by Bounemr



Category: DCU, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Maribat March, One Shot Collection, POV Jonathan Samuel Kent, POV Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Romantic Fluff, marijon, some stories have highkey early taylor swift vibes and im not apologising for it, sunshine children being actual sunshine basically, unnecessarily fluffy inner monologues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bounemr/pseuds/Bounemr
Summary: Maribat March 2020 Prompts for week 4, March 22nd-28th.This is my collection of seven individual oneshots correlated to the week 4 prompts for Maribat March. MariJon fluff focused.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jonathan Samuel Kent
Comments: 46
Kudos: 214
Collections: Maribat March





	1. Day 1: Sweetheart's Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt of "Rare Pair" has been replaced with "Sweetheart's Dance" on account of this entire week being MariJon for me, and thus already a rare pair. The rest of the week is as appears on eat0crow's calendar.

Jon has had better weeks. Though admittedly it’s not so much that his week is _bad_ so much as that familiar insecurities come back with a vengeance.

In truth, it’s a good week! Jon gets back his grade on last week’s math test and practically cheers aloud when he sees that he aces it. He finally beats that high score at the local arcade. He gets absorbed into a really good book. He even spends a bunch of time with his non-superhero friends and isn’t interrupted by some tragedy somewhere! It’s great! Until Friday rolls around, and with it the announcement of senior prom.

All through the day it’s the only thing anyone can talk about. Who’s going with who, what everyone’s wearing, the works.

Now, Jon is pretty popular, to be fair, but all that means on this fateful Friday is that he has more people than he appreciates asking him who he’s going to ask to prom. And it’s not that he doesn’t like them bugging him about it, but it all really makes him feel like he doesn’t have much of a choice but to bring someone.

He does _want_ to bring someone, but… a small part of him wonders if maybe he doesn’t just want to do the whole prom experience like a normal human kid. Maybe he’s so desperate to fit in that he can’t accept not having a date, or maybe going alone is part of the whole experience. After all, if he weren’t Super Boy, he never would have even met the only girl he can think of to ask.

Jon is already weird. People like him well enough, but he’s not the same as them. His powers will never stop setting him apart. No matter how well he hides, it never changes the fact that he _is_ hiding. So, when he thinks of a date for prom, and there’s only one girl in his mind, he’s just not sure he can do it. He can’t take the questions of how they know each other or the stares of him bringing the most stunning girl no one around here has ever seen and dancing the night away like they don’t have people depending on them for their very lives.

He sighs wistfully, reaching up to the stars. Which is worse, being one of the losers who couldn’t manage to get a date, or bringing a date and drawing everyone’s eyes? Jon honestly isn’t sure. Neither are inherently bad, but for someone who yearns so deeply to fit in…

But then, maybe that’s just the struggle of every teenager, alien or no.

At least Jon is lucky enough that he’s not worrying about who to ask or if she’ll accept. He’ll have to ask about her workload first, just in case, since he really doesn’t want her to get it in her head that she has to make a prom dress and end up neglecting something else for that, but Jon knows for a fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would love to go with him. She hasn’t exactly been subtle, asking about American school dances and prom dress fashion.

Jon smiles to himself. _I guess I’ll just have to suck it up. I can’t let her down, after all._ Even still, with that thought, there’s a tiny weight of dread in his stomach. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is… beyond words. He’ll do anything for her, so there’s no real question as to whether he’ll ask her out or not, but… Jon is going to end up as the guy who brought the belle of the ball to prom. The one who showed up with some random foreign head-turner on his arm. As satisfying as it’ll be to see everyone gawk at Marinette’s splendor, Jon really doesn’t need that kind of attention.

At least it’s senior prom. There’s not much school left for everyone to bother him about it in. It’s just like him to leave with a bang, anyway, whether he wants to or not.

* * *

There comes a point, Jon thinks, that one has to ask themselves if what they’re doing is worth it. If whether what’s happening, or is about to happen, is something that they are willing and able to deal with.

As Jon valiantly refuses to duck his head at the stares of faceless students flooding past him, he thinks that this is very much _not_ worth it.

He doesn’t even want the attention that’ll come with taking Marinette to prom! He doesn’t want all his classmates making eyes at them or asking about where she came from or how he knows her or anything like that! He doesn’t want to be the weirdo who takes someone from another whole country to their school prom! He just… can’t imagine going to prom with anyone but her. So, he’s here. At the steps of her school. Waiting like a loon for her to emerge.

 _It’s not too late to back out._ A traitorous part of him says. _You can still just go alone._

“Jon?!”

 _Aw, hell._ His chest feels like he’s wrapped up in chains, pulled so taut that even he can’t break out of them. “Hey, there, Mari!” He grins, waving. Everyone around, who of course are watching, start whispering to each other. That’s exactly what Jon is afraid of. But… this is part of normal human high school, too, right?

Not… not in Paris, so he probably seems even weirder here since no one can immediately identify who he is or why he’s here but… still. It’s part of the whole experience.

“Jon!” Marinette’s voice shifts from shock to elation as she throws herself at him. He easily catches her in his arms, and having her there, pressed against him, that loosens those chains around his chest just a bit. It’s easier to ignore the stares when he can stare at her.

He spins her around, giggling. When he stops to let her find ground again, he can’t bring himself to let her go completely. “Did I surprise you?”

“You know you did, silly! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!”

“It was a surprise!” Jon says. “Actually, I-”

“Hey, Marinette! Who’s this?”

Jon swallows down the groan in his throat at the rude reminder that he isn’t actually alone with her. Reluctantly, he allows Marinette to pull away from his hold, though he does have to suppress his elation at the fact that she doesn’t pull far. He still has his arm firmly around her shoulder. “Oh, right! Alya, this is Jon! I told you about him!”

The intruding girl’s eyes go wide. “Wait, _that_ Jon?”

Marinette giggles. “ _Yes_ , that Jon.”

Alya smirks smugly at him, looking through him like his mom sometimes does. It sends a shiver down his spine. “Interesting. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things!” Marinette says. “Anyway! Jon, you should have said something! Why’re you here? Where are you staying? How long will you be here?”

Jon just fondly watches her until she rambles herself out before he answers. “I won’t be here long. I’m just stopping by.” With a glance at Alya, he adds, “On my way to some other things. But I wanted to surprise you! I actually have, um, something to ask you?”

Marinette blinks, turning to face him more fully. “Oh? What is it?”

Jon plans to ask alone. He came here with the purpose of surprising her and then asking in a whisper so that he doesn’t make a scene, but Alya is standing right there, now, and is part of the conversation and he just… _Well… it’s part of the experience?_ “Will, uh…” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I know it’ll be complicated to figure out how, but, uh… will yo- will you go to prom with me?”

It’s a testament to either Jon’s nerves or his self-control that he doesn’t react when Alya shrieks and grabs Marinette right out of his arms, making off with her back to the gates of the school. Jon would like to think it’s the latter. Either way, though he can see them excitedly chattering, he’s too taken aback to think of eavesdropping.

Not that he _would_. He just could, and it doesn’t occur to him to. Of course. He’d never do something like eavesdrop on his maybe-date’s conversation with her friend who just interrupted his asking her out to prom. That would be… rude.

The girls are back before he thinks to look at the passersby, either, so he just spends however long they were whispering in a daze, just staring weirdly at them.

“She’d love to!” Alya eagerly says, nudging Marinette closer to him.

“I, uh…” Jon says. “What?”

Marinette giggles. “Please ignore her. I’d love to go to prom with you, Jon.” Suddenly, and making Jon only more concerned, she slaps her forehead. “Wait! Now I have to make a prom dress! I better get started on that right away! I have to do research to make sure it’s appropriate an- wait, I need the theme! I nee-”

Jon carefully grabs her flailing arms, steadying her before cupping her face in his hands to make sure she’s looking at him. “Marinette! Calm down. It’s not until the end of the year. You have plenty of time, and I’ll give you all the details I have as soon as I can, alright?” He slides his hands to her shoulders, and gently rubs her arms. “We’re okay? No frenzy?”

Marinette takes a deep breath. “We’re okay.” She says. “I’m good. Oh, but I’m so excited!” She jumps up, throwing her arms around Jon’s neck to hug him again. “This is going to be so cool!”

Jon just giggles, fighting off his blush. Now that he’s actually with her, he can’t help but agree.

* * *

The only word to describe how Jon feels on prom night is “breathless”. More accurately, whenever he catches sight of Marinette – and he does his darndest to ensure he never _loses_ sight of her – he feels like she’s a plane soaring through the sky, and she’s just hit him square in the chest. All the air in his lungs is knocked out to linger alongside the gentle sparkle of the summer air in warm light.

It’s thick and hangs heavy on them, and that atmosphere only makes it harder to catch his breath, but when he sees Marinette, he’s not sure he’s even trying. Like the air, he just hangs there, ensorcelled by her.

From the moment they enter the room, Jon sees people turn to look at her. He doesn’t blame them. Aside from her carefully done hair and natural beauty, every movement of her dress shines like lightning bugs on the farm. It… reminds him of home, somehow. Jon wonders if she was thinking of him when she made it, but he’s not quite brave enough to ask.

From there, it’s hard to say what everyone else thinks. He has his friends find him, of course, and he introduces Marinette to them, but past that, he doesn’t see any stares. He doesn’t hear any whispers. He can’t think of what they’re thinking.

He just follows Marinette onto the dance floor, sweeps her off her feet, lets her sweep him off of his, tries desperately in vain to pull air back into his lungs when it so stubbornly refuses to do anything but bask in Marinette’s glory.

He hears nothing, sees nothing, but her. Her and sparkling lights like lightning bugs in Kansas. He can’t even summon up any coherent thought as they dance. He just… revels. He loses himself in her and in doing so, he has the time of his life.


	2. Day 2: Soulmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's story was actually posted to tumblr back on March 4th, as it was originally written and posted as a response to Theatreandcomicfreak's soulmate idea. I've done some minor edits, but if you've seen that there, there's no significant difference. URL for the original version on tumblr, and the original prompt, here: https://bouwrites.tumblr.com/post/611638017636155392/maribat-soulmate-idea

Marinette has always been a princess. She _likes_ the nickname. Likes being treated like one. Likes the meaning behind it. She’s not so unusual in that way. After all, how many young girls dream of being princesses? Even she can admit that the number of Disney movies alone Marinette has watched over and over again is a little ridiculous. And since her soulmark appeared, Marinette understandably never quite left behind the princess phase. After all, proudly curving on the back of her neck, almost hidden by her hairline, in clear script, is the word “Princess”. The thing her soulmate will call her. She’s not demanding or spoiled or anything like that, or she tries not to be, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy feeling like a princess now and then.

She’s comfortable with her soulmark. It’s not the _most_ uncommon thing, and her having a preference for more established nicknames means she knows from a young age that she’s bound to run into some confusion somewhere down the line. The whole, “are they or are they not?” thing that happens when people use nicknames for friends that just happens to align with their soulmark. She knows it’s coming, so she’s comfortable. Prepared.

She gets a little too comfortable, truth be told, but she learns to hold her tongue. Some people can be like Chat Noir, making up nicknames for everyone, their originality driving them through the cloud of the most common terms of endearment on soulmarks. Marinette is creative enough, and she used to do the same thing, but she learns better now. That leaves her in the other pool of people, who try not to use nicknames much at all, to avoid confusion.

Once you say something, there’s no taking it back. One affectionate “ _Chaton_ ” and her crime-fighting partner thinks she’s the love of his life. But he never calls her “princess”. He never uses _her_ mark-name. It doesn’t even occur to him to. Marinette takes this as proof that he’s not her soulmate after all, but whenever she tells him this, he just thinks up another nickname to call her.

It’s not frightening or even annoying so much as it is simply awkward. With an everyday friend, that may not be such a problem, but with her partner? They aren’t on the same wavelength, all because of a stupid mark-name. That’s dangerous.

Marinette learns to hold her tongue. Sure, a mistake in everyday life may not have such potentially severe consequences, but even so she’d rather avoid insistent men on her case in her civilian life if possible. Chat Noir is no problem, because Marinette trusts and likes him, but he does teach her a lesson on how some people may react to the wrong name. Nicknames, for her, end up reserved for only her closest friends, if that. The change isn’t as hard as she thinks.

* * *

_Princess._ Marinette can’t help the violent flinch that overcomes her at the name, but Chat Noir doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps going on showboating for her. _Princess? Really? Is this a joke?_

There’s no other explanation. It has to be some grand cosmic joke. The punchline to the greatest show on Earth. Because Marinette _knows_ Chat Noir isn’t her soulmate. She knows he likes to make up nicknames, but never once has he called her “Princess”.

Marinette uncomfortably touches the mark on the back of her neck, disguising it as simply rubbing it awkwardly. The bold lines spelling out that word. Princess. What… Chat Noir calls her?

Marinette doesn’t have time to think about this. She has an akuma to take down, and with it targeting her as a civilian, she has to be at the top of her game. Chat Noir can wait, soulmate or not. At least for now.

* * *

It makes sense, to some extent. If Chat Noir has only not called her princess because his soulmate isn’t _Ladybug_ but _Marinette_. But then what about him? She called him _Chaton_ while and because he is Chat Noir. Marinette would never even think of calling someone that who isn’t moonlighting as a cat. But then, does that prove that they _are_ soulmates? Or does it prove that they _aren’t_? Surely someone other than her will call him _Chaton_. It’s not exactly a hard place to reach, once they learn of his alter ego.

 _Yeah._ Marinette thinks. _It’s just a coincidence. Calling some damsel “princess” is just like him, anyway. It should be more surprising that he hasn’t until now._ Marinette holds her hair up with one hand and a mirror with the other, examining the mark. _Right?_

* * *

“Tikki?” Marinette reaches one hand up into the air, idly grasping at nothing as her mind consumes her.

“What is it, Marinette?”

Marinette worries her lip, unsure if she can or should ask the question on the tip of her tongue. It takes a few stumbling attempts, but she ends up closing her eyes and asking what’s on her mind. “Why would I have a soulmate that I don’t love?”

Tikki is quiet for long enough that Marinette is tempted to sit up and look, but she refrains. She’s not sure she wants to see the expression on Tikki’s face.

“I just-” Marinette tries to explain. “Chat called me it. Princess. And I called him _Chaton_. That means we’re soulmates, right? But… I do- I don’t… I’m not sure I love him like that. He’s my best friend, of course, but… I just don’t see him as a… soulmate. Am I broken?”

“Oh, Marinette! No, no you’re not broken at all! Don’t you ever think that about yourself.”

“Bu-”

“No! I said, don’t! There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t even know for sure that he is your soulmate, and even if he is, there’s nothing wrong with having a platonic soulmate! You don’t have to be in love to be soulmates!”

Marinette mulls over Tikki’s words. They echo in her head and roll in her mouth. “But… he loves me.”

“You’re both still so young, Marinette. Give it time! I’m sure things will become clear sooner or later.”

Now, Marinette does sit up. Tikki is smiling earnestly at her, the optimism and confidence in her eyes too infectious for Marinette to resist her own smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so!” Tikki says firmly. “Everything will be okay.”

* * *

The school trip is unexpected, in the sense that Marinette all but forgets about it. She knows she has a part in planning it, of course, and she does her part with aplomb, but all of that was set in stone so long ago that with everything else going on, from Hawk Moth to Chat being her maybe-soulmate, it totally slips her mind.

Not to mention how she almost doesn’t go at all. She has a city to protect now, after all. She can’t just go on vacation.

Master Fu solves that problem for her, though, and Marinette finds herself oddly relieved that Kaalki has such a convenient power. Time away from Hawk Moth, even if she is still on call, is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe, without all this outside pressure, she can sit down and figure everything out once and for all.

Plus, it should be fun. A visit to the Daily Planet with Alya in tow _alone_ will make this trip to Metropolis more than worth it. That’s not even starting on all the other events, tours, and activities they have planned. It’s very exciting, and Marinette almost wishes she isn’t so distracted just so she can properly enjoy her classmate’s raving about everything they’re going to do in America.

She’s sure she’s missed some _very_ entertaining discussions. _Maybe Alya can catch me up?_

* * *

“Woah, careful there, princess.”

Marinette freezes at the unexpected touch on her shoulders. She’s a hair away from taking this guy to the ground, but then the situation catches up with her and she barely stops herself.

Pole in the middle of the sidewalk? Threat. Cute guy who has just saved her from slamming face-first into that pole? Probably less so. Also, _Princess?!_

Marinette examines the guy warily. Black hair, unkempt like he’s just been through a wind tunnel, bright eyes furrowed with concern, muscular arms leading to hands that have still not removed themselves from her shoulders. She shrugs him off, never tearing her eyes from his. She knows how suspicious she must look, and the way he wilts under her stare makes her think she should probably tone it back a bit, but still.

She knows that mistakes happen. She knows Chat might be her soulmate. She knows the likelihood of it being some random passerby in America isn’t exactly in her favor. But he has to be _sure_. “Princess?” She echoes, more testily than she means.

The guy clears his throat awkwardly. “Ah, I- I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just- I saw you weren’t looking at the pole and I-”

“You what?” Marinette pushes him just for fun, because he’s so flustered, but she can’t help but smile. The bite leaves her voice, replaced with sarcasm. She hopes he can hear that it’s friendly. “Thought you’d save the princess? Eh, superman?” The boy flushes brilliantly, scratching at his neck as he looks to the ground. “I can take care of myself. A little pole isn’t going to hurt me.” She teases. “Thanks, though. You _did_ save me this time.”

The boy chuckles awkwardly. “Ahaha, you’re welcome! Hey, uh, my name’s Jon! I… I’m not sure how to say this, I, uh…”

Now, Marinette knows mistakes happen, but she can also read a situation. The way his cheeks stay color as he bumbles through his introduction, the way he holds his neck a bit too reverent to be sheepish, the way his eyes go wide when she calls him “Superman”.

Jon takes a deep breath, apparently composing himself. “Sorry, I… that was _super_ awkward. Um… You called me superman. That’s, uh…” He ducks down a bit, turning so that she can see the script on the back of his neck. “My mark-name. Also, _weird_ , but, whatever. So, I was wondering if maybe princess was yours?”

Marinette chuckles and pulls her hair aside, turning so he can see her own mark. In the same exact place. Most soul-pairs have their marks in the same place, so that makes this seem more likely. Even still, Marinette has had false alarms before. This seems more legit than any so far, but…

But the way he _lights up_ at the sight of the mark. That stops Marinette’s breath in her lungs. “It is!” Jon cheers. “I can’t believe it! It’s really you!”

Marinette calms her heart and tries to rid her face of the damn soft look she knows she has. “Maybe.” She says. “I’ve had a close call before. This looks legit, though, so… no promises, but maybe we can… I don’t know. Get coffee or something?”

“Yes! Yeah, sure! I’m- I am _so_ down for that!” Jon grins from ear to ear. “Get to know each other, and then decide if we want to trust the mark-names or not?”

“Exactly.” Marinette says. “If you’re okay with that?”

“A hundred percent! I totally understand being cautious. Uh, here! Let me give you my number. You can let me know when you’re free? Unless… you are now?”

Marinette ducks her head to hide from the intensity of his gaze. It’s so… adoring. Not like Chat, not in the depths of love way, or the confident way he claims her as his. It’s in an optimistic way. In a hopeful, nervous way. It makes her chest flutter, and she can’t help but hope, too. “I’m actually in the city on a class trip. We’re having free time right now, so I’ve got, uh,” she checks her phone, “a couple hours.”

“Great! I know a good place to get coffee just around the corner. And, if you want, I could show you around a bit? I know the city pretty well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jon guides her to the coffee shop, awkwardly drifting close but carefully keeping his hands off of her. It’s cute, watching him want to grab her hand or throw his arm over her shoulder, but Marinette appreciates that he doesn’t.

She can’t be sure from one conversation and a couple of mark-names, but Jon seems just as likely as Chat to be her soulmate. Is he? Is Chat? Marinette ducks away from his eyes again, brushing her hair behind her ear as that single glimpse makes her stomach somersault. It’s impossible to tell from this meeting alone, but if the feeling in her chest is telling her anything, it’s saying to give this a chance. Maybe that’s all she really needs.


	3. Day 3: Coffee Shop

Jon is not having a good day. It’s one thing when he’s woken up at 2am by Damian dragging him out the window to whatever godforsaken mission they have to handle at that particular moment. He’s used to that. It’s another thing when the mission runs well into the morning and he has a math test just a few hours later that very day. Jon is, again and unfortunately, used to it.

But it’s another thing entirely when that happens three days in a row and _someone_ still insists on survival training. As if this entire week hasn’t been an exercise in survival. _Well if I’m going to survive one more minute,_ Jon thinks, grumpily, _I need coffee._

Naturally, in the moment he needs it most, there’s a line. A long one. That’s just his luck.

Regardless, as he stands in line at the little coffee shop, Jon does his best to tune out the rest of the world. He’s saved it enough the past three days. Now is coffee time. The world can wait.

That said, as he slowly approaches the counter, he does perk up a bit. Maybe it’s spending some quiet time with nothing to drag his attention away, or maybe it’s just proximity to his next few hours of energy, but he feels a little less dead, and pays a little more attention.

“Espresso.” The lady in front of him says. Her voice is accented, French, he thinks, but that’s not why Jon almost cringes at the sound of it. _That is a lady having a bad day._ “But, like, a full cup of it.”

 _Oh, mood. This lady should never meet Tim, though._ Jon thinks idly, as the cashier hesitates just a moment before asking her what size cup. When she points to the one she wants, what’s happening suddenly catches up to Jon. _Wait, that’s a lot of espresso. Is that safe? Is that legal?_

_Lady, are you okay?_

Jon is trying to maintain his composure has the lady walks away and he quickly orders his own drink. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, sees her collapse in a seat in the corner.

She’s cute, for what it’s worth. Small and undeniably pretty, despite the clear exhaustion on her frame. Decked out in light pastel colors, she gives the impression of a bright, friendly girl. Except… she looks miserable.

Jon frowns, watching her. He can’t help but wonder what could possibly have happened to her to land her in this state. He wants to know what the problem is, because he wants to help, because she looks like she _needs_ help, but… they’re just customers at a coffee shop. What’s he supposed to do? Besides, in addition to misery, she also has a very distinct “leave me alone or else” aura about her that makes Jon doubt the safety of approaching her. _Is it more heroic to save her from… this, or to know when to tap out and let things happen?_

_Right, right. Good people get involved. But in coffee?_

_You know this is more than coffee. Maybe you can just… lend an ear? If she doesn’t bite it off._

Jon sighs, cursing his own nature and the parents who raised him to be this way. _Too damn helpful for my own good. Okay, here we go._ He does wait until he and the lady both have their coffee before he bothers her, but once he retrieves his cup he makes his way over to her corner table.

“Uh, hey there. Sorry to bother, I just… are you alright?”

The lady looks up at him, unimpressed, with dead eyes. They focus in on him slowly, but once they do, they hold an unquestionable intelligence that only makes Jon further doubt this decision. “M’fine.” She mutters.

Jon bites his lip. The dismissal is pretty clear, but still… “If you say so. Your, uh, drink says otherwise, though.”

The lady moves her eyes slowly to the coffee on the table, then back to him. “Busy week.” She says.

Jon chuckles. “I hear that. I’ve been running ragged this week. Something tells me mine,” he gestures to his own cup of coffee, and then to hers, “isn’t quite so bad as yours, though.”

The lady huffs a small laugh. “Maybe.” As she examines him more closely, Jon smiles for her. After a moment, she lets out an amused hum. “Do you often talk to strangers at a coffee shop?”

Jon pretend to think for a moment. “No offense, but you looked miserable. Like you might need some company. And honestly? I could, too.” He says seriously. Then, he adds, gesturing again to her drink, “Plus, I have to at least _ask_ the story behind that.”

The lady hums again, and then sighs heavily. “I suppose you’re not wrong. Go ahead and sit. I won’t bite if you don’t.”

“Thanks. I’m Jon, by the way.”

“Marinette.”

“Marinette.” Jon echoes. “That’s such a pretty name! Definitely isn’t the kind of name I’d think would order that monstrosity.”

Marinette scoffs playfully. “Keep teasing and you can drink your coffee on your own.”

Jon laughs. “Alright, I hear you. No teasing. Coffee is _very_ serious business. Especially when we’re trying to overdose on caffeine.”

“That’s still teasing, Jon.” Marinette sticks her tongue out at him. “Keep pushing your luck.”

Giggling, Jon does his best to regain control of himself. Despite how friendly she is being and how easily they slip into banter, they’re still strangers. Jon doesn’t want to overstep. That’s enough teasing for now. “So, bad week?”

Marinette groans. “You could say that. You?”

Jon nods. “Just been one thing after another. My friend, best friend, really, I love him, you know? But sometimes he’s just…” He sighs. “He can be hard to deal with. He means well, but it’s tiring being dragged unprepared into all the wacky situations he gets us in.”

Marinette pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh, tell me about it. My best friend is the exact same way.” Jon grins at her, at the thing they have in common, but notices quickly how her expression darkens. “She was, anyway.”

“Oh.” Jon blinks, taken aback. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Marinette shakes her head. Idly twirling a pigtail, she says, “Not like that. I’m probably overreacting, but sometimes it feels like we’re… drifting apart, I guess. It’s not a big deal.”

“Drifting apart? Why’s that?”

Marinette narrows her eyes at him, as if trying to find something in him. Eventually she shakes her head again. “I suppose it can’t hurt… This girl we both know; she tells a lot of stories. Lies to make herself look good, that kind of thing. She just does it for attention, I think, but if someone calls her out, she gets malicious. My best friend, she considers this liar a friend. I… don’t. To say the least. It’s been… straining. Even without the liar trying to spread nasty rumors about me.”

“Ooh, yikes.” Jon says, grimacing. “I’ve met people like that. They suck.”

That brings the smile back to Marinette’s face. “Yeah, they really, really do. So far, my best friend hasn’t believed any of the bad stuff the liar says about me – she’s still a good friend to me and all that, I just… worry, I guess.”

“Understandably. Sounds like she believes her on the lesser stuff, so…”

Marinette nods solemnly. “Yeah. No matter what I say, she just seems to refuse to believe this liar is lying to her. It’s almost like she can do no wrong and that’s just…”

“That’s frustrating.” Jon says, earning her agreement. “It does sound like your friend could use some, uh… better judgement? But, I don’t think trusting in people is a bad mistake to make. If you’ll let a stranger give you advice, I think you probably just need to arrange some best friend time. Spend more time together without that liar, then you won’t feel like you’re losing her, because you’ll be spending more time together, but also you’ll be keeping her closer to your chest where the liar can’t reach her.”

Marinette quirks her brow at him. “That’s… borderline devious.”

Jon shrugs, smugly sipping his coffee. Damian isn’t his best friend for no reason, after all. If he didn’t have the head for at least basic plans before, Damian has drilled that out of him long ago. “Of course, I don’t know how often you hang out now or how much free time you have, but that’s what I think.”

Marinette purses her lips. “It almost sounds like you think I should try to beat her at her own game.”

Jon raises his brow, watching her. “Well, is her game lying, or taking your friends away from you?”

“Both.” Marinette says simply.

“And she’s doing that on purpose?”

“Definitely. She threatened me when I first called her out, said she’d take my friends and leave me all alone.”

Jon puts his cup back on the table. Hearing that cuts into him strangely deep, and he can feel anger on Marinette’s behalf begin bubbling. From the way she talks about this liar, Jon assumes the other girl is being malicious, but to actively threaten and try to isolate someone? That kind of bullying pisses him off. All bullying does, but Marinette seems like such sweet girl he just can’t stand the thought of that happening to her. “I see.” Jon says. Marinette sits a bit straighter, looking alarmed. Jon knows his voice is a bit colder than it should be. “Then definitely beat her at her own game. Don’t lie, of course, and don’t wear yourself out – I’m honestly not sure if it’s safe to drink that thing even once – but if you can, you got to do what you got to do, you know?”

Marinette frowns. “You really think so?”

“Sure. And worst comes to worst, you take the liar behind the bleachers and send her the way of Ol’ Yeller.” Jon says it jokingly, but a small part of him is legitimately protective of this girl he just met.

“Jon!” Marinette exclaims. “No!”

He laughs, which starts her laughing, and the atmosphere is suddenly so much lighter again. “Aw, I didn’t mean it. But you’re seriously, like, such a cool girl! I’ve only known you for ten minutes and even I can tell you’re awesome. I really don’t think you have much to worry about. If your friends have any brains, they’ll never let someone like you go.”

Marinette’s cheeks flush pink as she ducks her head. “You really… think that?” She asks quietly.

“Of course, I do! You’re funny, _so_ darn easy to talk to – I mean come on, we met ten minutes ago – you’re smart, cute… if you survive that thing you might be immune to caffeine, too, so that’s pretty cool. No one in their right mind would leave you behind for anything.”

Marinette giggles, though her face only grows redder. “You cannot tell that by just ten minutes of conversation.” She says.

“Sure, I can!” Jon protests. “You’re awesome! And don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise!”

“Ahaha, you’re weird, you know that?” Marinette says. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

Jon shrugs. “My dad always tells me that good people get involved. You looked like you were having a bad day, so I thought maybe I could help. That’s all. I promise I don’t normally talk to strangers when I’m getting my coffee.”

Marinette giggles. “Well, I’m glad you talked to me. I _was_ having a bad day, but… I think today’s going to be good after all.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They laugh and talk until Marinette’s phone chimes and she sighs. “I’m sorry,” She says, “I’ve got to go.”

“No worries.” Jon says. “I hope you keep having good days.”

Marinette smiles at him for a moment and then, biting her lip, she ducks her head cutely. “Hey, uh, before I go… this might be weird, but could I have your number? I… actually really had a lot of fun. Maybe we can meet up again sometime?” Gaining more confidence, she jokes, “And you can complain to me instead, this time.”

Jon grins. “Sure thing. I’d love to see you again!” He quickly enters his number in her phone and hands it back to her. “Message me any time. Oh! And keep me updated on the liar.”

Marinette giggles. “I will. Thanks, Jon. I… I needed this. I’ll see you later.”

Watching her walk away, Jon sighs. “See you.” He says softly.

It’s been a strange morning, that’s for sure, but that girl is totally worth it all. Jon can’t be sure she’ll actually follow up with him – though it _was_ her idea – but even so, she’s something special. Jon is glad to have even this short morning with her, and he hopes the rest of her life is as beautiful as she deserves.

And has just a little less caffeine. _I cannot believe she drank that whole thing. I will_ never _let her meet Tim._


	4. Day 4: Roommates

Marinette is a simple girl. It’s been a while since she could say she has a simple life, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a simple girl anymore. She’s a girl who loves what she does. A girl deep in her passions, who feels deeply and maybe works a bit too much. She’s a girl who really wants to spend some quality time with her boyfriend. Cuddle a bit, maybe catch a movie. That’s all. She’s a simple girl who doesn’t think that’s too much to ask for.

She takes the moments where she can. Nudges, laughs, winks. Sometimes, she and Jon can even hold hands. When she’s tired, she’ll duck her head into his chest and pretend he’s all the world, so she doesn’t have to do anything but sit there with him. No other obligations or distractions. When he’s frustrated, sometimes he’ll bury his face in her hair and mutter for only her to hear. Little things, stolen moments that don’t take away from every other thing they have to handle.

But sitting on the sofa, legs tucked under her as she leans onto Jon, watching a bad romantic comedy while he plays with her hair? That only comes once a blue moon. It’s nice while it lasts.

Marinette is sitting there, calm, content in the simplicity of enjoying time with the boy she loves, when out of nowhere and completely predictably, Alya comes upon them like an angel falling from heaven.

Marinette hears a sharp squeak, then the click of a camera shutter, then a curse as Alya remembers her phone’s sound is on and hurries to silence it. It’s not worth it to say something. She can feel Jon move under her, attention moving to where Alya is, but even still it’s not worth it. They can stay in this moment. They can keep this. They will hold onto this moment for all it’s worth and no nosy friend is going to pry it from their hands.

Besides, Marinette is too exhausted to care. After the last heroic tragedy pushed her behind on commissions, she’s been staying up too late. Jon is trying to get her to sleep more, in fact that’s why he arranged to come here tonight, and Marinette is so lucky and grateful to have the best boyfriend in the world who cares about her well-being and loves her so much so she will _not_ let this evening go to waste. This evening is for relaxation and cuddles and that’s _it_.

Marinette is just able to put Alya’s presence around the corner out of her mind when suddenly the lights dim. _Goddamn it, Alya._ She groans, beginning to rise, but Jon’s arms around her keep her where she is. “It’s alright.” He whispers in her ear, soft and sweet and everything she needs right now. “She’s just trying to set the mood.” He chuckles lightly, bouncing Marinette a bit on the rise and fall of his chest.

“She should mind her own business.” Marinette mutters into his shirt.

“She’s just trying to be a good friend.” He says. “In… her own way. Just focus on the movie.”

Jon’s right, of course, so Marinette sighs and settles back down. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth the energy to get up, much less chew out Alya. No, Marinette doesn’t want to be anywhere except right where she is, or do anything but exactly what she’s doing. Nothing beats this. Nothing beats the peace, the calm, of feeling his shirt on her cheek. Nothing beats the gentle rise and fall of his chest; its slow, even rhythm breathing into her the knowledge that he’s safe, and that she is, too. Or the steady bump of his heart; it’s unfailing beat like a message in code saying, “I’m alive. We’re alive.”

Nothing beats him nuzzling into her, grin lighting up the dim room like he’s sunshine itself, or the silvery voice, low and soft in her ear, just a little breathy, as if he can’t quite seem to catch his breath when she’s leaning against him like this.

Marinette can sit here forever, so long as he stays with her. Commissions and tragedies be damned. She’s sinking back into the mode to do just that when, opening her eyes again, she sees Alya directly between them and the television, holding up her phone. Her finger is frozen over the picture button, caught red-handed, so to speak. _I’m going to skin you, Alya._

She feels Jon’s hand on her arm, gently rubbing the skin there. It calms her down more than it probably should. “Alya?” Jon says.

“Uh… yeah?”

“Please leave us alone. Mari’s really tired. We just want a nice night in, okay?”

Alya awkwardly, and slowly, lowers her phone. “Yeah! Of course! I’ll leave you to it!” Even as she gives him a thumbs-up, she’s sending meaningful and suggestive looks at Marinette, who is simply too tired to care. Before she leaves, she kisses Marinette’s head, whispering, “I want the deets later, girl! Rest well!”

Alya takes off to her room, finally leaving Marinette the living room with Jon, where Marinette looks to him questioningly. “Huh?”

Jon shrugs. “I don’t know. Sounds like she’s got something to talk to you about, though.”

“Mmm.” Marinette just turns her head back into his shoulder. “Who cares?”

Jon giggles. “While I’ve got you here? Not me.” He hugs her closer, a little tighter, and nuzzles her, drawing grins and giggles out of the both of them.

* * *

“You’re leaning forward. Are you _asking_ to be taken down? And fix that stance!”

Marinette growls under her breath as she wipes the sweat from her brow, adjusting her weight and stance to be perfect. Mistaken as their intruder is, she _is_ slightly off. That only irks her more. Jon, hearing her, groans loudly.

Their uninvited third doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. The latter is, admittedly, more likely. “And Jon, are you seriously going that easy on her? She was wide open! So are you. You shouldn’t be relying so much on your powers to muscle through every fight, you know.”

Jon sucks in a breath and sticks a tight smile on his face. “Thanks, Damian. I _totally_ want to hear your advice right now.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Whether you want my advice or not, I won’t allow you to keep practicing with such poor form. You’ll only make bad habits that way, and that’ll get you killed.”

“I understand that.” Jon says, far too patiently for his own good. “I do. But we’re _not sparring_.”

Damian furrows his brow, looking between them. “You are in the sparring ring, dressed for it. What _are_ you doing, then?”

Marinette takes a deep breath. _It’s only natural he’d think we’re sparring. Doesn’t excuse him barging in, but it’s fine._ “Dancing. I asked him to help with a routine.” She says.

“Ah.” Damian says. “In that case, Jon, you’re still far too stiff.” His eyes move to her again. “And you were still off-balance.”

Marinette gives him a sardonic smile until he turns his attention back to Jon. Then, she rolls her eyes.

“Dance is helpful, but only if you do it properly.” Damian continues. “It will hurt you in combat if you slack off just as much as proper practice will help. You’re clearly not suited for this, perhaps I will be a better partner for her. She should practice with someone of her skill.”

Jon scowls. “Hey, back off. She asked _me_ to help.”

Marinette sighs deeply. “You know what? I think we’re done for now, anyway.”

Damian tuts loudly. “You’re giving up halfway through practice? You’ll never master it if you don’t devote the time necessary.”

Marinette clenches her jaw. _It’s not worth it._ She reminds herself. _It’s not worth the trouble. Just walk away._ “I appreciate the thought, Damian, but has it ever occurred to you that just maybe we don’t _have_ to be masters at everything we do?”

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous. We must aspire to excellence in any endeavor.”

Marinette runs her hand down her face. Normally, she would be more patient with Damian, but she’s just really not in the mood right now. “Alright. Let me spell it out for you. I like dancing with Jon. That’s it. That’s all this is. And you know what? We’ve been going at it for a while now! So, I’m going to raid your fridge and then I’m going to take a nap, alright? Good? Good. Goodbye.”

“Dang it, Damian!” Jon whines.

“What’d _I_ do?”

“We were just having fun! Why’d you have to come in and ruin it? You put her in a bad mood, too…”

“If you had proper form, I wouldn’t have had to say anything. And if she gets upset at such minor critique, then-”

“Oh my God!”

Marinette growls some more as she rubs her temples. _So much for date night._ It _was_ supposed to be fun, but now she’s all riled up from being interrupted (and from knowing Damian is right, at least about her technique), and once Damian tried taking Jon’s place as her partner?

That’s the night out the window. Even if she and Jon try to continue their plans, Jon will just be in a foul mood, and she’s not that much better. Jon’s usually better about keeping his cool, but Damian always riles him up, and the unintended implication that he’d be a better boyfriend for Marinette? Jon isn’t forgetting that tonight. Ironically, that’s exactly what spoils the night, but still. It’s just not worth it.

The only thing Marinette can do is let the boys fight it out, calm herself her own way – maybe she’ll make some cookies – and hope that she’ll still have time to pick up the tail end of date night and cuddle with Jon a bit later on. _What a pain._

Both the boys smile, one huge and bright and happy and the other small and subtle and approving, when she bribes them with cookies she makes after a quick nap is worth it, though. And with their obligatory daily fight out of the way, Damian decides that a cookie is good enough and he has better things to do, so Marinette gets her coveted cuddle time.

At least it isn’t a total failure.

* * *

It doesn’t take them long to figure out that getting anything done with their best friends around is next to impossible, so Marinette and Jon start taking their dates out of the house. It goes well at first, but they’re sitting in a park, joking and people-watching and enjoying their little picnic, and all of a sudden, as if by magic, unseasonal flower petals begin falling.

Marinette and Jon just share a look and immediately sink their heads into their hands.

True to form, Marinette is happy to attempt to simply ignore it. Even when the music starts, she puts it to the back of her mind. She’s enjoying time with her boyfriend, and she _will_ enjoy that time.

It’s about the time that the rickshaw rolls by and Marinette has flashbacks to “Operation: Secret Garden” that she just can’t take it anymore. She collapses into Jon, burying her head in his chest, muttering, “Kill me.”

Jon chuckles. “Sorry, darling. No can do. We should probably run them off before they summon an airplane to write in the sky for us or something, though.”

“Can they do that?”

“I can hear Damian. So, yeah, I actually think they could.”

Marinette groans again. “Okay. Let’s go. Where are they hiding?”

Jon takes her hand to guide her towards some nearby bushes, behind which Alya and Damian are crouched. “I told you they’d hear you!” Damian hisses. “Honestly, this entire ‘mission’ is so childish!”

“Then why did you agree to it?” Alya spits back. “Don’t act like you weren’t helping!”

“Because if they _finally_ get over themselves, I won’t have to listen to Jon moaning abou-”

Marinette loudly clears her throat, drawing both of their attention. Alya at least has the decency to look sheepish. Damian just turns his nose up at her.

Jon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damian. What, and I cannot stress this enough, the _hell_ are you doing?”

Damian scowls. “This witch friend of yours dragged me out here on what she considers a mission. We’re supposed to manipulate you two into a-”

“Hey!” Alya leaps over to slap her hand over his mouth, but Damian just manages to dance out of range. She does succeed in shutting him up, though. “It’s a _secret_ mission!”

Damian scoffs. “I hardly think matchma-”

Alya dives at him. “I said shut your mouth! You’ll ruin everything!”

Marinette quickly steps in between them to stop either of them from doing something they’ll regret. Jon steps in, too, back to back with her between their friends. “That’s enough!” Marinette says, leaving no room for argument. “Alya, I know exactly what you’re doing. I was there for Operation: Secret Garden, you know.”

Alya opens her mouth soundlessly a few times. “Y-yeah, but…” She gestures insistently over Marinette’s shoulder. To Jon.

“I also don’t need your help setting up a date with my boyfriend, so I’d appreciate it if you would just let us get back to the one we were already on. Please?”

Alya stares at her for a moment, slack-jawed, before screeching. “ _Boyfriend_?!!?!”

Marinette blinks, moving a bit to find Jon’s eyes again. “Yeah. Boyfriend. Wha- oh…” Marinette frowns, tapping her chin. “Oh, we forgot to tell you, didn’t we?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! You got a boyfriend and didn’t tell me?!!?!”

“Yeah…” Marinette mutters, resigned to Alya’s freak-out. “That explains a lot.”


	5. Day 5: Fake Dating

“Hey, Marinette! My beautiful, clever, resplendent bestest friend ever!” Jon grins as best he can into the camera, watching as Marinette’s face quickly morphs from happy to see him to exasperated. Of course, he knows he’s being obvious, and he can tell from the look on her face that she’s going to call him out on it. He hopes for just a _little_ bit of time instead of jumping right into this as his greeting, but… well, he may as well get to business. “So… guess who’s dumb?”

Marinette arches her brow. “Damian?”

Jon can feel his cheeks warm as he reluctantly shakes his head.

“Oh, no, Jon. What did you do this time?”

He coughs awkwardly. “So, uh, I was like, flirting with Damian a bit an-”

“Excuse me. Why, exactly, would you flirt with _Damian Wayne_?”

“Because it’s fun!” Jon protests. Marinette’s expression tells him all he really needs to know about her position on the idea. “It’s not like he’s ever going to notice! He just gets confused and does that funny scrunching thing with his nose.” Jon scrunches up his nose, pointing to it as he makes a silly face.

Marinette starts cackling. “He does not do that!”

“Close enough! It’s funny! And his brothers think it’s funny, too, so they’re not going to tell him I’m doing it on purpose, so I’m safe! Or, I _was_ , anyway.”

“Oh, dear, who caught you?”

“ _Dad_.” Jon covers his face. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m more terrified of him finding out I’m bi, or of him being _all for it_ and trying to set me up with Damian.” Marinette just continues cackling, like a traitor. “It’s not funny! Dad’s bad enough, but do you know what _Bruce_ would do if he thought I liked Damian?!”

“Ahahaha! I’m sorry, Jon, but this _so_ your own fault! What did you expect when you flirted with Damian Wayne?”

“I just thought I’d mess with him a bit! Just have a bit of fun at his expense after all the stuff he’s done to me! I didn’t think Dad was going to eavesdrop! Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I just… that’s _hilarious_!”

“Marinette!!!” Jon whines. “Fine! Get your laughs. I may as well tell you how I made it worse, now, so you don’t have to stop before you start again.”

“Oh, heavens, there’s _more_?”

“I don’t need this!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Tell me! What’d you do?” Marinette is grinning ear to ear and on the edge of her seat. Jon tries not to take personally just how much she’s enjoying his suffering.

“So, uh Dad pulled me aside to ask about what I was saying to Damian, right? And I sort of panicked?”

“What did you say?”

“I, uh… I kind of blurted out that I have a girlfriend and ran away.”

Marinette honest to goodness snaps her knee. She’s wheezing by the time she finally says, “Jon, you _didn’t_.”

“Don’t judge me! I was panicking!”

“Isn’t being a superhero supposed to, I don’t know, teach you how to work under pressure?”

Jon covers his face. “Shut up! I’m seriously freaking out right now! He _knows_ I lied. I’m sure Damian does, too.”

“Oh my god. Damian heard you? That’s even better! Ahahahaha!”

“Mari, please!”

Marinette valiantly fights her giggles, though her success leaves a bit to be desired. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is serious. Hilarious, but serious. I’ll try to contain myself.”

Jon slouches over, hanging his head. “I seriously don’t know what to do. I’m not ready to have that talk with Dad! And I _definitely_ don’t want to talk to Damian about it.”

Marinette sighs the last of her giggles away. “Well, why not? What are you afraid of?”

“You mean, _aside_ from coming out to my family? Maybe Damian or Dad or Bruce or, God forbid, _Mom_ misinterpreting something and trying to play matchmaker?”

Marinette opens her mouth, shuts it, and then shrugs. “That’s fair. You know your parents are going to be cool about it, though, right?”

Jon fidgets nervously. “I mean, Dad was raised in _rural Kansas_ , Marinette. I’m not really… confident.”

“Jon, your grandparents raised a literal alien. I guarantee you they won’t mind if you kiss some cute boys.”

“Those are completely unrelated, but thank you. That does make me feel a little better. I’ve just… never talked to them about it before. I mean, they seem okay with the other heroes and stuff but it never really gets brought up? I don’t know how they’d feel about someone in their family being bi.”

Marinette gets a sly grin on her face. “Aside from your dad’s obvious crush on Bruce, you mean?”

“Marinette! No!” Jon covers his face. “I was being serious!”

“Ahaha, sorry, sorry. I’m only teasing.” Marinette says. “But alright, so, what are you going to do about your dad?”

“Ugh, I don’t know! I was hoping you’d have some… ancient queer wisdom, or something?”

“Alright, let me think. Well, you told them you have a girlfriend, right?”

Jon frowns. “Yeah. But there’s no way Dad didn’t notice how I was freaking out, and even Damian isn’t _that_ oblivious. They know I don’t.”

“Don’t you, though?” Marinette leans conspiratorially closer to the camera.

“Uh… no?”

“Don’t you?”

“Mari, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Marinette giggles. “If it’s for you, I’ll be your beard. You can tell them I’m your girlfriend, then we can break up later.”

Jon surges up in his seat. “Seriously? You’d do that for me? Oh, Marinette, thank you so, so much! You’re the sweetest, awesomest, coolest, bestest… augh, I don’t know! You’re the best person in the world!”

“I’m aware.” Marinette chuckles. “But mostly, you deserve the chance to come out when you’re ready. I’ve got your back.”

* * *

There are few people in the world with the ability and courage to lie directly to Superman’s face. Jon is almost more terrified of Marinette than he is of the potential consequences of this going wrong when she proves that she is, without a doubt, one of those people.

He expects it, though Marinette doesn’t tell him _exactly_ when she’s coming, when she appears in the watchtower, transformed as Ladybug, with half-amused fury. Some of the loitering heroes wisely move out of her path, and Jon blanches when she makes a beeline for him. “Seriously, Super Boy?” She stops in front of him, hip cocked an eyebrow raised as she looks at him with that scary, scary anger. “Not a week into it and you announce it to your dad? I thought we agreed not to tell anyone!”

Robin openly smirks at Jon. Despite not knowing the details, he can tell Jon is in trouble and that’s enough to laugh about. _Jerk._ And several other heroes are gathering around to watch, as well, including Superman. _At least she has good timing._ “I, uh…” Jon starts. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be! Ugh, you are _so_ lucky I love you! I should’ve known you couldn’t keep it a secret.”

“I… well… it was only Dad!”

Ladybug rolls her eyes. “Well it’s too late now. May as well stop the charade.”

Jon carefully brightens up, an expression he practiced in the mirror a thousand times just for this. “Really? Just… open?”

“Yeah. We still on for tomorrow?”

Jon grins. “You bet!”

“Great.” Ladybug grabs his collar and pulls him down to quickly kiss his cheek. “Still mad at you, but I’ve got a lot of other stuff to deal with right now, so I’ll see you later.”

Despite himself, Jon feels his cheeks burn when she kisses him. “Y-yeah. Later.” Ladybug takes off, leaving the rest of the watchtower in her wake, including Jon staring after her, thinking, _God, she is so cool._

He’s only broken out of his reverie by Robin’s comment. “Wait, so you were telling the truth about having a girlfriend? And it’s _Ladybug_?!”

Jon blushes but smiles smugly at his friend. “Yup. Why would I lie about that?”

Robin scowls and turns back to his work, leaving Jon to chuckle in relief. _One down. Now, just…_ He turns hesitantly to face his dad. _One to go._

It has to be believable, Marinette says, which is why they agree that they only started dating last week. No one will believe they can hide it long. Or, at least, that Jon could hide it long. It’s also why Marinette engineers this whole thing in the watchtower, right where Superman and Robin can both see, because if he wasn’t supposed to tell then he has reason for his panic when his dad asked him about flirting with Damian. Even if it does make him out to be a bit of a jerk.

He’ll take it, happily, if it makes the whole “flirting with Damian” thing ancient history.

The lecture his dad gives him about pissing off his secret girlfriend is totally worth it. And when Jon tells him the story Marinette came up with behind why she wanted it quiet in the first place, he buys it.

Jon leaves the watchtower that day feeling like a kid in a candy store.

* * *

Their first date is planned for appearances. Marinette is already one of Jon’s close friends, so it’s really not all that awkward. They just go out, eat lunch together, and hang out for the day. It’s a lot of fun!

The second date is planned knowing that Damian is stalking them. Damian has been giving him curious looks, recently, so maybe he’s trying to confirm that they’re _actually_ going on dates. Jon is affectionate with Marinette, of course, but most of their time together in person is in the watchtower and he and Marinette both try to be more professional there, so Jon can see where the suspicion comes from.

Still, Jon doesn’t much appreciate being watched. Marinette whispers in his ear to remind him that they have to reinforce their ruse, and this will get Damian off their backs for at least a while, so Jon reluctantly agrees and pretends to not know his friend is there.

They hold hands, but past that for the most part they just keep doing what they always do. They joke and laugh and goof around. At one point, Marinette cuddles into his side and Jon can’t help the little stutter in his heart.

Little things like that – their fingers interlaced, her tucked under his arm, soft lips on his cheek for just a moment – it’s different. And it’s a lot. It makes his gut go sideways and upside down like he’s falling instead of flying. Jon returns the gestures, reminding himself that tricking Damian is worth any weird feelings in his chest.

Their third, fourth, and fifth dates they don’t bother wondering if someone is watching them. They’re pretty sure someone does at some point, but they don’t particularly care. They just act like they’ve got Damian on their tails regardless.

On the sixth date, they’re watching the stars from rural Kansas, not quite close enough to anywhere to have to worry about anyone catching them, not even the folks who live out here. There’s no need to keep up appearances – really, there’s no need to be out here at all – and yet some confusing part of him is telling him to make a show. He looks over at her, splayed out haphazardly, limbs crossed over his own, as the stars gaze into her eyes, and he wonders if he can convince either of them that they need to cuddle closer, that he needs to hold her hand to his lips or to sit up and lean in and…

He can’t. He can’t do that. But he can dream.

On the seventh date, he realizes he _wants_ that dream.


	6. Day 6: Time Travel

There are three things which Marinette knows with absolute certainty. The first is that time is stupid and, despite not getting paid for her heroics, Bunnyx deserves a raise. A substantial one.

The second is that her love for Adrien, if it comes to them actually dating, inevitably results in not only her death, but also Hawk Moth’s, all of Paris’, and given the state of things, most likely the entire planet’s. Or, apparently, alternatively, an equally ruinous future with slightly different details. _Thanks for the reminder, Time._

The third, and most important, is that Marinette has just completely, utterly, royally messed up.

All three things being only tangentially related, of course.

In her defense, Marinette never _purposefully_ looks around Bunnyx’s burrow. No, she had her run of curiosity the first time and got scolded as she deserved, and she knows just how stupid it would be to know her future. Just how dangerous it is.

Bunnyx is kind to her the first time – another reason she’s a good hero, Marinette supposes – talking of things like learning her next birthday presents to deter her from looking around instead of objectively more important things like looking for the moment she, or someone she loves, dies. And no matter how much it irks Marinette not to get the information that could solve everything, she appreciates and trusts that Bunnyx knows what she’s doing by keeping Hawk Moth’s identity hidden. If she does indeed even know it.

There’s a time for everything and time is a fragile thing. Ironically, that’s at the crux of Marinette’s problem. So is the other thing Bunnyx tells her, that what’s seen can’t be unseen.

With how the afterimage of that damn window in time is seared onto the insides of her eyelids, that’s surely the truth.

On the bright side, her most recent escapade into time has cleared up a few things she’s been pondering since the whole “Chat Blanc” fiasco. First and foremost, it’s not Chat that she has to worry about. Despite the identity weirdness that went on in Chat Blanc’s timeline, Marinette is sure that the most recent tragedy has nothing to do with secret identities, but as she was apparently dating Adrien in that future and she knows for a fact that she’ll tell Chat Noir when she has a boyfriend and Chat wasn’t the one akumatized this time, it’s not simple jealousy that almost caused the end of the world that one time. It’s good to know that Chat’s crush isn’t _that_ bad.

On the darker side, that does mean that the inevitable end of the world is linked wholly and totally to her dating Adrien. So, that’s less good to know. Also, Marinette is a truly frightening akuma.

Another thing cleared up by this whole business is that time is stupid, and Marinette is glad she’s not Bunnyx. Yes, the burrow is cool as all get out, but one slip, one massive tremor caused by a potentially world-ending event, and all of a sudden Marinette has the rug pulled out from under her and she _can’t unsee that stupid window_.

She knows she should forget it. She’s _trying_ to forget it. But how on Earth is she supposed to get the image of her kissing a stranger out of her head? It’s stuck in there like it’s branded onto her brain. She doesn’t get a good enough look to make out the details, but she knows for sure that the boy holding her is no one she knows.

The first, and most striking thing, about the image, the thing that draws her eye in the first place, is the guy’s dark hair. Dark. As in, not blonde. Marinette would even say his hair is black. Which is just about as far from blonde as he can get. And no obvious dye, either, so unless Adrien decides to go black-haired for some reason or Luka somehow decides he hates the color in his hair all of a sudden, that already eliminates every one of her obvious options.

And, to be fair, those scenarios _can_ happen, though the idea of Adrien being allowed to dye his hair is… yeah. But it can happen, except that the next thing she notices about the image is the boy’s ragged, worn, patched-up, absolutely _ancient_ -looking flannel shirt. Marinette is certain he must have inherited it from his grandfather or something, because there’s no good reason anyone should wear flannel so often that it gets to that state of wear. Not even in a lifetime. It’s not falling apart, thankfully, but still.

It’s probably really soft, though.

Not that she’s imagining how it feels, or anything. She just knows Adrien isn’t allowed to breathe the _scent_ of flannel, so no hair-dye shenanigans there, and Luka? The flannel doesn’t necessarily exclude Luka, but the color scheme? Bright, warm-colored shirt and white-washed blue-jeans? Not Luka at all.

Besides, Marinette may not get a good look at the guy’s face, but she can recognize Adrien and Luka at a glance from miles away. No, this guy is a complete stranger.

That raises… a lot more questions. Questions like, if her dating Adrien ends in disaster, is she truly not supposed to be with him? Is she supposed to be with this other boy? Who is this other boy? How do they meet? How do they fall in love? Will Marinette fall at first sight and stumble over her introduction? Will he teasingly call her “Ma-Ma-Marinette” because she can’t get words right? Will she hate him at first, making wrong assumptions about him based on circumstance?

What kind of person is he? Will he sweep her off her feet with kind gestures, gentle smiles, bright, sunshine giggles at every little thing she says? Will he be more cold? Maybe he’ll have a tough exterior, and the flannel is more of a grunge aesthetic, if a bright one, and he’s rebellious and loud and fun. Maybe he’s a musician just like her last two crushes, maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s an athlete. Maybe he’s a hero.

Will he polish those glasses of his when he’s frustrated like Max does? Will he grab the ends of his flannel overshirt and wrap it tight around her, trapping her with him like Alya does? Will he listen patiently and let her cry and offer soft, kind words and empathy like Luka? Or a cheerier camaraderie and humor to lift her spirits like Adrien?

When Marinette closes her eyes, she can see him. He’s a transfer student, coming from rural America (his style is _so_ classic Hallmark movie she’s not sure whether to laugh or vomit, but somehow when he wears it it’s cute), he barely speaks French, and when he does it’s with a thick accent, so Marinette does her duty as class president to help him keep up. They talk and joke with each other and he’s funnier than she expects but he has such strange sayings that she can’t quite understand but at face value they all make her laugh. She just spends so much time helping him, because he’s still learning the language, that she falls for him, not even realizing she falls out of love with Adrien in the meanwhile.

Or maybe she goes to him. He’s still American, because again, that _style_ , but this time she’s on a class trip to some city. New York, or somewhere smaller, or, no, it’s a big city. He’s come to the city, too, and they bump into each other while both trying to ask for directions to completely different places. They hit it off and he asks for her number before some kind passerby gives them the directions they both need.

Or maybe he’s a city native, and he has some time on his hands, so he guides her personally to where she needs to be. He sticks with her longer than he really needs to, and Marinette can’t bring herself to complain.

Or maybe some twist of fate lands her in the back end of nowhere, just somewhere in America. A dusty old diner with hardly anything of note nearby, like in the movies, and he’s there waiting tables. He’s so charming that she can’t resist writing her number on his copy of the receipt. Or he takes a dive like she does so often and spills something on her. She won’t be mad. She knows how hard putting one foot in front of the other can be.

Maybe Marinette succeeds at forgetting him. Maybe she doesn’t, and they never meet after all. Maybe every one of these daydreams only happen to some other Marinette. There’s just no way to tell. Marinette is really starting to hate time. It’s ridiculous, utterly so, how that one stupid image affects her.

It’s there, though. There in her head, and in Bunnyx’s burrow, and Bunnyx isn’t breaking down her door so time must be alright, which means… that kiss will happen.

But just because she sees something in time, does that mean she _ought_ to do it? Will refusing break something? She never knew that signing her gift would lead to Adrien figuring her out and Chat Noir getting akumatized. She never knew that dating Adrien while keeping her secret identity would lead to her own akumatization. So, she _can_ change the way things are meant to be without even knowing it.

But, knowing it, ought she? Will her loving this boy be so hollow as simply fulfilling a prophecy she never means to see? So hollow as finding someone to fill in the hole left by her doomed romance with Adrien?

And that’s the worst part. That she _knows_ she has a chance. She knows that she can ask Adrien out and she’ll get the date she wants. But if she does… calamity. How is she supposed to move on from a love like this?

When she imagines this boy, though, this dark-haired, flannel-wearing stranger, she can imagine. She can trace so many paths, so many roads, leading to her loving him. She can write stories and songs about their love. She just can’t convince herself that it’s real. It seems so far away, and far too strange.

* * *

After a month, Marinette still can’t stop thinking about him. She tries hard not to give him too much credence, to not give him anything that makes him more… real. She doesn’t give him a name, not even a nickname. She can’t stop herself from imagining what he’s like, but she switches it up as often as she can, discarding all assumptions based on his appearance. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up and, if he does really exist and they really are going to meet someday, she doesn’t want to place those expectations on him. He doesn’t deserve that. No one does. Keeping his personality inconsistent also means that he won’t solidify in her mind. He doesn’t have anything solid except his hair and that flannel. He’s not real.

“Are you ready for this, Marinette?!”

Marinette is startled, too much so, by Alya grabbing her to ask her that. “For… what, again?”

Alya sighs, affectionately shaking her head. “I know you’ve been out of it recently, girl, but come on! Today’s the day you ask Adrien out!”

“Ask out…” Marinette follows Alya’s suggestive gaze to the other side of the courtyard where Adrien is talking to Nino. Nino’s glance over and small smile isn’t lost on her. “Oh.”

She feels like something is withering inside her. Maybe it’s her heart. She can’t ask him out. She knows how that ends. She can’t, whether she’s capable of it or not. Whether she wants to or not. _Do I want to?_ Marinette’s gut flips at the thought. She’s spending a lot of time daydreaming, but… “Focus, girl!” Marinette blinks at Alya’s hand in front of her face. “Come on, all you have to do is go over there and tell him how you feel!”

Marinette frowns. “I’m… not sure how I feel.”

The collective gasp around her draws her attention to the fact that the rest of the girls are with her as well. _Great._ “Wha- What do you mean by that?” Alya recoils. “You’ve been in love with Adrien since you met! Now all of a sudden you don’t know how you feel? Are you sick?” Marinette feels Alya’s hand on her forehead, but only rolls her eyes and grumbles in response. “You don’t feel sick. Is this why you’ve been so quiet recently? I thought you just had a lot on your plate. Come on, girl, talk to me.”

Marinette breathes in deeply and lets it all out in a huge sigh. “I don’t know. I was busy, but… I guess I just got distracted. I haven’t been paying as much attention to him and now I… I’m not sure.”

Alya purses her lips, hands on her hips like she’s planning something, and then Marinette is being dragged over to Nino and Adrien. “Come on, Marinette. I want to test something.” She murmurs. As they approach, she raises her voice to yell to the boys. “Hey! What’re we talking about?”

“Just the test.” Nino says. “Brutal, right?”

Alya laughs. “Ugh, don’t remind me. But if it isn’t anything important, Adrien, you don’t mind if I steal Nino for a bit, do you? I’ll trade you Marinette.”

Adrien looks to Marinette and smiles brightly. “I don’t mind! I love spending time with Marinette!”

Marinette can feel Alya’s eyes on her as she smiles in return. “They’re never going to stop ditching us, are they?”

“Hey!” Alya protests.

Adrien laughs. “Who are we to stand in the way of true love?”

Marinette chuckles. “I suppose you have a point.” Seeing that Alya is still standing there, she turns to her best friend. “Didn’t you want to talk to Nino?”

* * *

Marinette spends the next few months half afraid she’s permanently damaged the timeline – with each passing day she’s simultaneously more certain that nothing is wrong, but also that something is terribly wrong and they’re just out of time to stop it (Marinette really hates time) – and half afraid of what Alya’s next matchmaking move is going to be. Once Alya convinces herself that Marinette is over her crush on Adrien, something even Marinette isn’t a hundred percent certain on, she starts trying to get her with Luka. But funnily enough, daydreaming about a dark-haired, flannel-wearing stranger is _also_ enough to wear down whatever was going on between her and Luka, so that ends in a flop, too.

As time passes and Marinette just doesn’t show any interest in anyone, the girls accept their new normal. Marinette isn’t the one with the unrequited crush anymore. She’s not in love at all. Sort of like Alix. (Is time turning her into Alix? That’s just stupid enough to be believable.)

She does still get odd looks from time to time, and more than a few times Alya grills her about the mystery person she must be in love with. Wistful sighs and daydreaming are a big tell, apparently, but even that fades as Marinette eventually puts the stranger behind her. She’ll thank him for the role he played in her life, helping her move on from Adrien, even if only in her dreams, but she still has no idea who he is, or if he even exists. She moves on, and eventually the daydreams become more infrequent. She stops thinking about him. She thinks maybe the timeline is alright, and what she saw in that window can safely be just a distant memory.

Alya is excited about some new development. International reporters coming for some reason or another. Marinette is pretty sure it’s not to do with Hawk Moth, though it might have something to do with Ladybug and Chat Noir. Considering Alya is so excited that Marinette can’t even understand her, she has to assume it does. Though considering how excited she is, it probably also has to do with her journalism heroes.

Heroes of two of her loves coming together in one place? That would explain how she’s bouncing off the walls.

Marinette doesn’t have the heart to deny Alya when she’s asked to come along to the big event. She tags along, happy to support Alya, even if everything her friend is saying goes right over her head.

It’s with one arm being jostled up and down and mid roll of her eyes that Marinette catches sight of a boy separated a bit from the people Alya is so excited to meet. A boy with dark hair and a tattered flannel sitting impishly and grinning at the whole affair. Even from this distance, Marinette can see the pride on his face as he watches the stars of the show.

As if sensing her, he turns his head and looks straight at her. He doesn’t recognize her – how could he? – but she gets a bright grin and a wave regardless. Marinette struggles to calm her racing heart as she waves back.

“Are you listening, Marinette? Who’re you waving t- Oh my god! That’s Jonathan Kent! That’s Clark and Lois’ son! And he’s waving at you!”

_Jonathan Kent, huh?_ Marinette feels herself blush, and she knows Alya picks up on it, and she can feel the schemes already, but none of that matters right now. Now it’s just the staccato beating of her heart and that beaming smile he keeps sending her way.


	7. Day 7: High School

Jon intends for it to be a quiet day. Or, perhaps not _literally_ quiet, but quiet in the sense that it’s just him and Marinette, enjoying their small bit of stolen time together.

That’s why, despite them going out of the house, Jon doesn’t tell anyone where they’re going. Despite being in the same place as many of his friends from school, and even possibly Damian, if his brothers actually managed to wrangle him there this week, Jon just wants today to be him and this beautiful, precious, wonderful, amazing, unbelievable girl.

And okay, maybe he also wants to pretend it’s a date. Sue him. Who doesn’t want to be on a date with Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Jon never once lies to anyone. When his friends ask if he’s going to the game, he says he’s not sure. Until he walks onto the stands with Marinette, he _isn’t_ sure. He could just as happily go anywhere else. When Marinette asks if they’ll see Damian there, he says probably not. Damian very rarely deigns to go to school football games, after all. He has better things to do, like stalk Gotham’s streets as Robin.

So, Jon’s conscience is clear, and in the end it’s just him, Marinette, cold metal bleachers, and a community of screaming football fans.

The first quarter has a lot of Jon leaning close, feeling her hot breath in his ear as she asks him questions about what’s happening. This is American football, after all. Living in Paris, she probably doesn’t see much of it. Jon is happy to explain the rules, why certain calls are made, what’s happening on the field, anything she asks, really.

Jon likes football, he does, and he cheers as loud as anyone when his team scores a touchdown. He’s competitive and he likes the impact of it all, and if his powers didn’t give him an unfair advantage that he’s not entirely sure he can control as much as he’d need to, he’d consider playing. That said, the biggest reason Jon brings her to his school football game isn’t any love for the sport, but a love for her.

She’s wicked competitive. He knows this as clearly as it beat him over the head last week when he dared answer her Ultimate Mecha Strike challenge. She also asks him about America sometimes, just like he asks her about France. This whole “date” is actually framed as a cultural exchange, of sorts. Marinette asks him what he considers fundamentally American and he just laughs and laughs and says, “Football. Easy. Want to come to a game sometime?”

He doesn’t plan on her agreeing, or actually making the trip over for his school’s game, but he’s not about to complain. Any time spent with Marinette is worth the hassle. Besides, Jon can see her get caught up in the atmosphere of the stadium.

She picks up the game quickly, so that by the time the first quarter is over, she only rarely needs to ask Jon to clarify things. She stands and screams with the superfans when his school scores a touchdown. She marvels at the band on the end of the bleachers off to their right, complimenting them every time they play. She squeals watching the cheerleaders do their routines and flips. She growls and howls her disappointment when the other team gains the advantage. _She’s so cute_. Jon thinks, watching her get riled up with the crowd over a foul.

The gentle flush on her cheeks, the breathiness of her voice after yelling, the bright, bright sunshine in her eyes and the mindless smile she never once drops. She’s so caught up in the game, Jon can’t help but get caught up in her. She could be one of the spotlights over the stadium for how bright she is.

The atmosphere is electric, charged, tense and vibrating with the energy of the game. It’s so easy to let their voices become one with the crowd’s, to be just a couple more high schoolers cheering on their school’s team. Nothing else. Not aliens or heroes. Just kids. It’s… exhilarating. It’s part of why Jon likes football. But with Marinette here? It’s even better.

The night goes on, there are ups and downs. Third quarter, one touchdown behind, Marinette is on the edge of her seat. The sun has gone down, though, and she’s crossing her arms and shivering. Jon chuckles. “I told you to bring a jacket.”

“I did!” Marinette protests, showing off her light cardigan. “I underestimated how cold it’d be.”

Jon giggles. “Ahaha, I can see that! Lucky you, I brought an extra.” He reaches into his bag at his feet and pulls out the extra jacket he brought, just in case. He doesn’t really _expect_ Marinette to not bring a big enough coat, but he does know she gets cold fairly easily, and he wants nothing more than for this to go well, so he wants to be prepared.

And, just maybe, he might want to see Marinette in his letterman jacket. Sue him. It’s a classic. He can dream, just for tonight. It’s very American! And it is very warm.

Marinette brightens considerably when she sees his jacket. Jon is starstruck because he honestly doesn’t think she _can_ get any brighter. He supposes the cold slowly tuned that down as the night went on, but she slips into his jacket, several sizes too big for her, and curls into his side for good measure, just for that bit of extra warmth.

And doesn’t that do strange things to his heart? If anyone were to see them now, if any of the many, many people around were to look, they wouldn’t think twice about him and Marinette being a couple. That’s… wow. Just the thought.

Jon is lost in the sight of her, trying hard not to think too much about it all. Her in his jacket, her arms around his, her head on his shoulder. It’s hard, but he tries to focus on the game. It doesn’t work too well. That’s why he doesn’t realize immediately anything is amiss until she stiffens and nudges him.

That alone gets him on high alert. “What’s up?”

“What’s _that_?!” Marinette squeaks, pointing to the jumbotron on the end of the field. Jon follows her finger to the screen and… _Oh. Oh, no. Oh, God. Oh, hell._

There, on the screen, are him and Marinette, surrounded by a bright pink heart and the elegant script reading, “Kiss Cam”.

“Jon?”

Jon nervously tries to comfort her. “It’s just a silly thing. They point the camera at couples, and they kiss is all. It’s supposed to be cute.”

“We’re supposed to…” Marinette glances between him and the screen once, twice, Jon just prays for the camera to get the hint and turn somewhere else, but just before he’s _sure_ it must be about to, Marinette grabs him by the collar to pull him close. One hand on his cheek, the one closer to the stands, so they’re still in full view of the camera, she tilts her head cutely. “We should… right? Are you okay wi-”

Jon closes the small gap left between them to kiss her.

He’s out of breath before his lips even touch hers, but the moment they do he’s breathless on a whole other level. He’s dreamed of this moment, of finally, finally kissing her for longer than he’ll admit. How many times has he seen her smile and just… imagined? Let his mind get carried away with dreams of paradise? Let himself feel that tiny spark of hope that dreams aren’t all they have to be?

The kiss is chaste and lasts for hardly a moment, but Jon won’t ever forget this moment. He can’t even if he tries. It’s strange, because he’s completely shut down in so many ways. His lungs don’t work, his mind is blank, he feels paralyzed, and yet it’s also sublime. It’s almost as if all his faculties take a step back to allow space for the emotion that rushes through him. He forgets just how bad of an idea this is, because this half-moment is greater than he ever imagined.

All at once, Jon’s head catches up with him and he realizes what he’s truly doing, and he jumps away like he’s been burned. He risks a glance at the jumbotron, sighing with some relief that he’s no longer on camera, and then he looks to Marinette.

She’s just… staring at him. “Marinette?” He breathes. “Aw, hell, I’m so sorry, I didn’t thin- I mean you were askin- I- and I jus- I just…”

“Wha-? Jon, I was asking you if it was okay to kiss you! It’s okay!”

Jon risks looking her in the eye. Her gaze is full of concern and worry and Jon mentally berates himself for putting that there. He just… kind of can’t breathe. “You mean it? I mean, I… I just- I just kind of went for it. I know you weren’t really rea-”

Jon is cut off suddenly by her grabbing his collar again and pulling him close. His rambling words catch on a gasp in his throat when he finds himself intimately close to her once more. She pauses just before they crash into each other, to cup his cheek and to ensure it’s gentle, before she closes the hair of distance left to kiss him again.

That’s… that’s not what he’s expecting. But Lord, he’s not going to complain. Marinette pulls back from him, giggling. “Now we’re even?”

“Even…” Jon says. His voice is dangerously close to a whimper. “Right. Even.”

“Great. Oh! The game is starting again!” Marinette grabs his arm again, curling close. Jon has neither the faculties nor the patience to focus on the game again. All he can think about is… _Holy cow, she kissed me._ She _kissed_ me _!!! We weren’t even on the kiss cam, she just did it!_

_What the hell is happening? I’ve… I’ve got to be dreaming, right?_

If it is a dream, it’s the best one he’s ever had. And if it’s a dream, maybe he can push his luck a little. Carefully, he moves her closer hand from the crook of his elbow to his own, and tentatively laces his fingers through hers.

She looks over at him, flushed as red as he feels (he hopes it’s not just from the cold), and all he can do is offer a hopeful smile. When she smiles back, and he feels her hand squeeze his own, he can hardly believe it. He giggles senselessly and raises their joined hands to kiss the back of hers. “H-hey, I…”

The crowd erupts into a roar, drawing both of their attention to where his school’s team just scored a touchdown. With the field goal, they’re tied again.

“We can talk later.” Marinette yell-whispers into his ear. “When it’s not so loud! But I’m really glad I came tonight!”

Jon returns her grin. “Me too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the line for me! So happy to have been able to partake in this wonderful event. Working with prompts and short fics like this is a new experience for me, so I hope y’all enjoyed it.
> 
> It was a lot of fun! I’m looking forward to writing more prompts, and more Maribat, in the future! <3


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